


Carry On My Wayward Sons...

by AllHallowsEve



Series: Wincest Colored Glasses [22]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Costume Kink, Demon possession, Desire, Emotional Hurt, Episode: s01e22 Devil's Trap, Exorcism, Fear, Love, Lust, M/M, Pain, Pre-Slash, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-27
Updated: 2018-06-27
Packaged: 2019-05-29 04:42:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15065366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllHallowsEve/pseuds/AllHallowsEve
Summary: John has been kidnapped by demons.  The boys desperately need to get him back alive, but fight over just how to accomplish that.  Once they succeed, extreme emotional torture occurs as a result.Episode 22 as viewed through Wincest colored glasses.





	1. A Bullet Spent...

**Author's Note:**

> This became so unwieldy I decided to break it into two chapters. Luckily both are finished so you don't have to wait :)
> 
> As always this is unbeta'd so please let me know if something doesn't make sense or there are grammatical errors. My brain is absolute mush right now after this episode, so I wouldn't be surprised if this was so bad it was hard to read. Please inform me if that is the case because I will work to fix any problems so as to make this better for everyone.
> 
> Cue music... (yes I know that in the first season's finale Carry on Wayward Son wasn't played, but in my head canon it is) :)

Every word that came out of Meg’s mouth made Dean’s blood run colder until her last taunt of, “You’re never gonna see your father again,” shoved icy shards into every cell in his body.

Guilt, over how much he had just been thinking about his own need and desires for Sam, while his father was being tortured or worse by that demon slut of a whore Meg, washed over him.  It made him almost wretch at the thought, as his hatred of himself and his vile disgusting darkness grew by the second.  Panic warred with his self loathing over which was going to debilitate him in that instant before years of repetition grooved into his brain of _take care of Sammy_ , won out over all of the other emotions.

The demon knew they had the Colt and knew they were in Salvation.  It would be coming for them next, would be coming for Sammy.  Dean had to get them out of there and somewhere safe before it was too late.

As he packed, he tried to succinctly explain to his thick headed brother why they desperately needed to leave before the demon could find them, but Sam stubbornly said, “Good, we’ve still got three bullets left. Let it come.”

Dean was having none of it, not with the kamikaze mindset that had suddenly inexplicably overtaken his otherwise normally rational brother.  He lashed out yelling, “Listen tough guy, we’re not ready.  We don’t know how many of them are out there.  Now, we’re no good to anybody dead.”

He took a breath and gathered the last of his belongings stating unequivocally, “We’re leaving… now.”

Sam didn’t fight anymore, even though every fiber of his being wanted desperately to do just that.  He needed to stop wanting Dean, but that was an impossibility.  So he got in the car, barely managing to get his long legs safely inside and close the door before Dean was squealing the tires and pushing the car hard all the way out of town.

They began discussing options but Dean didn’t like where his brother’s head was at, not one bit.  Everything coming out of Sam’s mouth was defeatist, seeming to believe somehow that John was already dead.  It cut across Dean’s already raw nerves and tore at his soul.

Sam didn’t want to believe it was possible that John could be dead.  It was his only hope to free Dean from the dark desires running rampant in Sam.  He had almost done the unthinkable back at that motel and it was getting worse with every order Dean gave.  Something was even more wrong with Sam than he had believed all his life, if he could find his brother incredibly hot while he barked orders and pushed Sam around about their dad’s life hanging in the balance. 

Sam had to get away, but if John was dead, there would be no freedom, he could not leave Dean unprotected, even if that meant he was in danger from Sam himself.  Sam desperately wanted to hold on to the idea that John was somehow still alive, but Meg hadn’t offered to trade him for the Colt.  That was proof in Sam’s mind that John was almost certainly no longer alive. 

He tried to convince Dean that they should stop and fight.  That if their dad was dead, he would want them to finish the job.  But Dean was having none of it.  Dean yelled at his pigheaded little brother, telling him to quit talking about their dad as if he was dead already.  Dean told him in no uncertain terms, “Everything stops until we get him back.”

He looked at Sam to make sure he was listening. “You understand me?  Everything.”

Sam tried to think about Dean, about how much John meant to him.  He thought about the vulnerability that Dean had shown back at the motel when he expressed that Sam and John were all he had.  Sam swallowed down his selfish needs.  He pushed aside his fear about how much he wanted Dean and how close he had come to revealing it.  He had to think about his brother and what was best for him.  He couldn’t let him down, he couldn’t hurt him.  And if there was any way that they could save their Dad, they had to try, Dean was right.

So he took in a harsh breath and asked his brother how he thought they should go about finding him.  When Dean suggested the only idea he had, which was to go to Lincoln where Meg had lured their father in the first place and try to track them from there, Sam shot that idea down, saying that the demons would never leave any tracks.

Dean thought about it and realized Sam was right, that they really were at a loss for any clues.  The boys needed help from someone who had been at this a lot longer than they had.  So they went to the one place on the planet they knew they could always go to for help.  They went to Bobby Singer.  He was the closest thing to family the boys had other than John.  He had helped raise them most of their lives.  Anytime John knew he would be gone too long, or would be leaving the boys in danger if they were alone, they had stayed with their Uncle Bobby.  He was kinder and more compassionate than John had ever thought about being and the boys loved them in a way neither ever could John.

They hadn’t seen Bobby in a long time because the last time they had been there, Bobby had threatened to blast John full of buckshot, he had cocked the shotgun and everything.  Dean reminded Bobby of that when he explained to him that the boys weren’t even sure they should have come to him for help, but Bobby assured Dean that John just has that affect on people.

Dean thought about it for a second before breaking into a relieved smile and agreeing with the older man.  Bobby understood Dean like no one else, other than maybe Sam.  He told Dean, the history between John and himself didn’t matter, all that did was that the boys get John back.  Bobby knew Dean worshipped John, and for better or worse, he needed his father in his life, so because he loved the boys so much, and because John was one of his oldest friends, even though he was the world’s biggest idjit sometimes, Bobby would do whatever he could to help them.

Sam was in awe of the book Bobby had let him read.  The Key of Solomon, a famous grimoire, indicated all kinds of sigils and symbols that they could use to fight the demons but the best one was the series of protective circles.  Bobby assured Sam that they really do work, that if they could get a demon in one, they were trapped, powerless even.

Bobby warned the brothers that they were in serious crap though.  He explained that in a normal year he would hear about three or four demonic possessions but this year, he has heard of twenty seven already so far.  He didn’t know why, but he knew that something big was causing it, like a storm was brewing and the Winchesters were all smack in the middle of it.

Bobby’s dog Rumsfeld began barking before making a pitiful howl and falling silent.  Bobby looked out the window and saw nothing that would pose a threat, but his dog’s chain now hung empty.  He warned the boys that something was wrong before his front door was kicked inward off its hinges. Meg walked through and said, “No more crap okay?”

Dean lunged towards her meaning to hit her with a face full of holy water, but before he could finish unscrewing the cap off the flask Bobby had given him, Meg threw him across the room, knocking him unconscious without even actually touching him. 

Sam stepped in front of Bobby, shielding him with his body.  Meg told him she wanted the Colt, the real one.  She proceeded to launch into a diatribe of how underwhelmed she was by the Winchester men and how worthless their hiding had been.  Sam and Bobby backed slowly together into the other room and Meg followed slowly like a panther stalking its prey.  The two men backed as far as they could before stopping just out of arm’s reach of her. 

She asked incredulously, “Did you really think I wouldn’t find you?”

Dean appeared behind her just inside the wide doorway between the two rooms, and revealed happily, “Actually, we were counting on it.”

Sam was so relieved that Dean was alright.  He had taken an incredibly hard hit and had looked so limp and frail lying in the pile of books where he fell.

Meg turned threateningly to Dean. Her gaze followed his as he raised his eyes to the ceiling above where she stood.  The protective circle carved into the wood of the ceiling caught her, trapping her there, now powerless.  They tied her to a chair inside it so that they could question her.

While the boys had been busy with her, Bobby had salted all the doors and windows to keep any other demons out that might have been here as Meg’s backup.  He joined the boys just as they began their interrogation.

Dean stepped away from the other men and began asking Meg about John’s whereabouts.  She taunted and teased him about his mother being dead instead.  Dean lost his temper, getting right up in Meg’s face and yelled at her.  Asking her if she thought this was a freaking game. His voice rose higher as he asked her again where their dad was and what she did to him. 

She stated bitterly, “He died screaming.  I killed him myself.”

Dean’s upper lip quivered in rage filled contempt.  It boiled over and he lashed out, striking Meg harshly across the face.

Bobby called Dean into the next room, Sam intercepted his brother as he walked by, asking him quietly, “You okay?”

Sam looked down at his older brother, he could tell his nerves were frayed and taut.  He seemed strung out and Sam wasn’t sure what would happen if Meg somehow proved to Dean that their dad was truly dead.

His heart pounded seeing Dean this way.  Sam wasn’t sure what to do.  He knew Dean would never let him take over the interrogation, but he didn’t want Dean to do something he might regret.

Dean brushed off the question stating only, “She’s lying, he’s not dead.”

The statement revealed nothing to Sam that would help him feel better about Dean’s mental state.  Only proved how desperate Dean was to find their father.  Sam was scared to death John was dead.  He himself didn’t want to lose their dad.  But he was afraid it might drive Dean off the deep end and Sam could barely hold himself away from Dean now under the best of circumstances.  If Dean fell apart, allowed Sam to see him even more vulnerable than he had earlier, Sam was petrified what he might do.

Bobby told Dean that he had to be careful how he physically hurt Meg, because she wasn’t just a demon.  She was also an innocent girl who was being possessed by the demon.  He was surprised the boys didn’t realize it.  Bobby had been at this long enough that he could see it right away, but obviously neither of the younger Winchesters knew the difference.

They were both shocked, but then Dean came up with a plan to use that fact against the demon.  Sam would perform an exorcism rite from John’s notebook.

Dean threatened the demon, explaining that they were going to send it back to hell unless it told them where their father was.

Meg continued to torment the boys with the idea of John’s death.  Telling them as Sam paused to take a breath, that John begged to see his sons one last time which was when she slit his throat. 

Sam looked to Dean, his eyes questioning the older man for guidance. Dean looked back at Sam stone-faced, Sam took it for the instruction that it was, and continued reading.  Dean allowed his fury out just enough to bend down closer to Meg so he could whisper in her face through gritted teeth, “For your sake, I hope you’re lying.  ‘Cause if it’s true, I swear to God, I will march into Hell myself, and I will slaughter each and every one of you evil sons of bitches, so help me God.”

Sam had to focus hard to continue and not skip a beat.  Dean’s rage was palpable.  Sam could feel it beating against him like wings from a giant raptor.  He had to fight to keep his eyes on the words in front of him, all they wanted to do was seek out his brother, pulled inexorably towards the magnificence of his ferocity.

As Sam got further along with the exorcism, pages from a book open on Bobby’s desk began to be flipped over as if pushed by an invisible wind.  When Meg showed signs of breaking, Sam paused, and Dean asked again, “Where is he.”

She again insisted he was dead.  Dean broke, screaming in her face wildly, “No he’s not.  He’s not dead.  He can’t be!”

Sam watched his brother, fear filling his own heart.  For the first time, he knew his fears were true.  He was suddenly quite sure that this would break his brother if his idol were no longer alive.  Dean looked at Sam, realizing what he had just shown the room, how vulnerable his outburst had left him.  He yelled for Sam to continue to read.

He spoke again in Latin.  It wasn’t more than a moment later that the chair Meg was tied to began shaking and moving around the floor inside the invisible circle, almost like it was attempting to get out or break through the barrier, but she was screaming as if in pain while it happened.  Finally yelling out, “He will be.”

Dean motioned to Sam to stop, saying, “Wait, what?”

Sam ceased his reading and she said, “He’s not dead, but he will be after what we do to him.”

Dean asked her how they could trust she was telling the truth.  He looked to Sam and yelled for him to continue, using only Sam’s name as instruction.  The threat was enough because the demon told them there was a building in Jefferson City. 

They questioned her further, Dean asked for an address and Sam asked where the demon they were hunting was but she swore she didn’t know anymore than what she had told them.

Dean believed her.  He told Sam to finish the exorcism.  She screamed at him, telling him that he had promised.  Dean’s voice was nothing more than a growl as he spit his answer right in her face, “I lied.”

Sam balked at reading more, explaining that they could still use her to find out where the demon was but Dean stated flatly that she didn’t know.

Dean insisted there was an innocent girl in there and they needed to help her.  But Bobby stepped in and told them they would kill her if they finished the exorcism.  He told them that the only thing keeping her alive after the seven story fall that they described, was the demon still inside of her. That the boys would be killing her if they removed it.

Dean insisted that they continue, saying they had to put her out of her misery. Sam listened as Dean instructed him to finish it, but he didn’t want to give up on finding the demon once and for all.  It took Dean repeating himself again, looking Sam in the eyes intently before Sam followed the order.

Sam moved around behind Meg, and began chanting the ritual again.  Her eyes flickered to black before her head was thrown back and a dark charcoal grey cloud of continuous smoke erupted from deep within her, escaping her mouth along with a piercing scream.

The young woman wheezed and groaned, blood dripping from her lips, as she whispered softly, “Thank you.” 

Bobby went to call 911 as the boys untied her and moved her to the ground, laying her flat as gently as they could manage.  She moaned and told them it had been a year that the demon had occupied her body.

They could tell she was in extreme pain but she continued to struggle to try to tell them she had been awake for some of it, but couldn’t move her own body.  She told them that the things she did, was like a nightmare.

Dean asked her if the demon had been telling them the truth about their dad.  Sam looked at Dean in shock, but his brother assured him that they needed to know.

She told Dean it had been telling the truth, but she added that they wanted the boys to come for John.

Sam asked her where the demon they were searching for was, but she could only confirm that it wouldn’t be where John was, but there would be others there waiting for them.  The only other information she managed to get out before her body completely succumbed to its injuries was that John was being kept by the river and the word, “Sunrise.”

Bobby sent the boys off with the Key of Solomon along with instructions to bring their father around once they found him, with the promise that he wouldn’t even try to shoot John this time.  They thanked him for everything before speeding off before the paramedics could get there.

They pulled over next to the river in Jefferson City.  Dean focused on prepping the weapons for their attack while Sam intently studied the Key of Solomon for any other tricks they might be able to use against the demons they would have to fight through in order to save their dad.

They were both quiet as they worked, both stewing on their own mixture of emotions.

Sam had been stealing glances at Dean while he worked.  His brother could be moody under the best of circumstances, but with their dad’s life hanging in the balance, he had been a brick wall of silence.  He hadn’t been able to pick up on anything specific from his brother or what was churning inside of him.  Sam finally couldn’t take it anymore, he had to check in, see if he could test the waters with where Dean’s head was at.

He said calmly, “You’ve been quiet.”

Without looking up, Dean answered, “Just getting ready.”

Sam knew Dean was worried about John, of course they both were, but Sam was looking at the big picture, the next move passed John on to the demon.  Dean couldn’t see anything past getting their dad back safely.  It was verging on obsession.  Sam wasn’t sure how to help, but he tried to allay Dean’s fears with, “He’s gonna be fine, Dean.”

His brother still didn’t look at him.  Sam tried not to let it hurt, but failed miserably.  There was a wall between the brothers, had been since back at the motel before Bobby’s.  It had been pushed down somewhat by the confrontation with Meg, but now it was firmly in place and was pushing at Sam’s brain like a two ton vice. 

He tried to swallow it down and just focus on the task at hand. His eyes caught on a symbol in the book and he got excited.  He went to the trunk of the car where Dean had it open getting weapons out.  Sam began drawing the symbol on the corner of the trunk and Dean freaked out, asking him why he was drawing on his car.

Sam explained that it was a Devil’s trap which would keep demons from being able to get into the trunk so they could hide the Colt there and the demons couldn’t get at it.  Dean didn’t understand why they would need that since they were taking the Colt to save their dad.  Sam tried to convince him that they only had three bullets left and their dad would never forgive them if they didn’t save those for _the_ demon.

Dean got pissed saying they needed all the help they could get in order to save their dad.

Sam got pissed right back saying their dad wouldn’t want them to use the gun for him.  Dean yelled at him asking, “Since when do you care what Dad wants?”

He didn’t know what was going on with his brother, but it was stomping his last nerve.  Sam’s personality had shifted suddenly, especially where their dad seemed to be concerned.

Sam yelled back at him, “We want to kill this demon.  You used to what that, too.”

His anger ramped up uncontrollably, “Hell, I mean you’re the one who came and got me at school! You’re the one who dragged me into this.”

And there it was, that was what had been eating at Sam for a while now.  He had been safe, away from Dean for years.   His brother had been able to get on with his life away from the danger that being exposed to Sam brought to him, to them.  If Dean had just left well enough alone, then Sam’s desire for him would be thousands of miles away back at Stanford and Dean wouldn’t be having to drag around his disgusting twisted vile brother, whose soul was rotting away from incestuous thoughts even as they stood screaming at each other.

Dean felt like he had been punched in the jaw.  He felt like Sam would have hurt him less if he had taken out the Colt and shot Dean in the heart with it.

Sam kept up the onslaught, “I’m just trying to finish it.”

Dean’s face broke into a smile instinctively when he took the emotional hit.  He looked up into the angry snarled face of his brother, his one true love and realized just how much Sam and John have in common.  They could both dig right into his guts and twist him up, making him feel worthless with a mere word or look.

He looked down in disbelief, shaking his head.  “Well, you and Dad are a lot more alike than I thought, you know that?”

He thought about how Sam had been behaving, about his need to run back into the burning house, and the fear that memory drove right down Dean’s spine, making his legs weak, just from remembering it.  He thought about his dad, hell bent to take on this demon alone for almost a year now.  “You both can’t wait to sacrifice yourself for this thing.”

Dean’s own fear at what his father and brother might each do, caused anger to rush out, “But you know what?  I’m gonna be the one to bury you.”

He couldn’t stand the thought of his dad dying, but if he had to watch Sam die, he would just crawl right inside the grave after him.  Sam had no idea what his death would do to Dean.  He couldn’t possibly understand what even the potential of that caused, haunting him, keeping Dean up at night.  He had been fighting that potential all his life and now Sam seemed determined to run straight for it.

His voice calmed to a quiet more hurtful tone as he continued, “You’re selfish you know that.  You don’t care about anything but revenge.”

Sam denied it.  Saying “That’s not true, Dean.” 

There was so much more that Sam could say that would prove this wasn’t about revenge.  That the entire reason he wanted to end the demon was so that he could protect Dean by leaving him.  But Dean would never understand that sentiment, couldn’t unless Sam confessed how poisonous he was to be around Dean.  And if he did that, then it would all be over anyway, he would lose Dean for good. 

He couldn’t say anything about the truth of the matter so he focused on the facts at hand.  He explained to Dean that he wanted to save their dad, but that they couldn’t bring the gun with them, the demons were expecting it, and if they got their evil hands on that gun, the demons would kill all the Winchesters, not just John.

Dean gave in, saying “Fine.”  He had to say it twice and throw the Colt into the newly secured demon trapped trunk before Sam would believe him.  As soon as Sam rounded the side of the car, Dean grabbed the gun and stashed it in his jacket.

They gathered their gear and trekked around to see what they could find and as soon as they rounded a corner, Dean realized what Meg had meant by ‘sunrise.’

There before them stood an apartment building with the name Sunrise carved over the door.  It was a perfect cover for demons, there were even children playing jump rope out front.

The brothers brainstormed for a minute and realized they could pull the fire alarm to clear out all the civilians but that would only leave them seven minutes before the fire department showed up.  They decided that might even work to their advantage, not only causing the least amount of potential civilian casualties but also giving them a way to sneak in undetected.

Dean distracted the fire department long enough for Sam to sneak two full sets of gear from one of the trucks for them to wear.

Dean took point, not so much for defense as it was to hide the boner that had begun to grow as soon as Sam began strapping himself into the pale yellow uniform.  It didn’t matter that Dean could barely see his face under it, he could hear Sam’s voice and see his broad shoulders completely fill out the overcoat.

As they went door to door with the EMF readers trying to pick up any indication of where the demons might be, Dean tried to get his mind cleared of how his body had reacted.  He confessed, “I always wanted to be a fireman when I grew up.”

Sam was gobsmacked.  “You never told me that,” flew out of his mouth in shock, his voice, sounding for all the world like it had when he hit puberty, breaking high in the middle of the statement, before he reined his interest back under control. 

He was worried the tone in his voice might have betrayed how much his body had responded to the idea of Dean as a fireman, not to mention how it had already inadvertently begun to show interest as soon as Dean donned the get up.

But there was no chance that Dean noticed because the EMF signaled that there was trouble behind the current door they had just come upon.

The boys knocked and told the inhabitants that they needed to evacuate.  As the woman unlocked the door Sam burst inside hitting her with holy water spray they had rigged in their gear.  Dean did the same to the male who had hidden behind the door.  Once the demons were subdued they were thrown in the closed, secured behind a half circle of salt.

The brothers snuck towards the bedroom and found John.  The image of his bloody body splayed out prone on the bed stopped both men in their tracks momentarily.  After a second, Dean moved over to his dad and listened for any clue of his status.  Dean indicated he was still alive and Sam let out the worried breath he had been holding.

Dean started to cut his father free from the binding holding him to the bed, but Sam stopped him, saying he might be possessed and that they needed to know for sure before they let him go.  Sam splashed some holy water from one of the flasks Bobby had given the boys, but it landed harmlessly on John’s stomach.  It did succeed in waking him up though.  He told the boys the demons had been drugging him to keep him subdued.

The two sons barely managed to get John on his feet and out the bedroom door when the main apartment door burst open and two new demons walked in.  The three Winchesters backed their way into the bedroom and salted around the door.  One of the demons was attempting to cut his way inside with an ax.  But salt on the door and window sill gave them a chance to get down the fire escape safely.

Dean was helping John walk, carrying most of his weight on his left shoulder with Sam scouting ahead.  Out of nowhere Sam was tackled by a demon who began pummeling him mercilessly.  Dean propped John against the building and ran to help Sam. 

He kicked the demon in the head, landing it with all his might as it crouched over Sam, but it did no damage at all.  The demon looked up at Dean with glassy obsidian eyes and with a mere nod of his head he threw Dean in a wide arc to land hard against a truck windshield.

The demon recommenced his vicious attack on Sam, bloodying his face with no indications of stopping.  Suddenly a shot rang out and the demon froze in place, with a dark hole visible in his temple.  He fell to the ground dead, yet another victim of the Colt.

Dean had to help Sam get up, he was in pretty bad shape and his legs didn’t really want to carry his own weight at first.  Somehow they managed to get John up between them and make it to the Impala safely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fear not my lovelies, part two is already posted. Beware, angst, love and emotional torture lie ahead, all waiting just for you...


	2. What the Demon Knows...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happens when the demon that has haunted your entire life possesses your father and torments you about it? The Winchesters face this the same way they do everything... together.
> 
> Last half of the season 1 finale as seen through Wincest colored glasses.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always this is unbeta'd. Please let me know if you see any errors, grammatical, or otherwise.

They travelled unobstructed to a cabin that they sometimes used as a safe house with no indication of further trouble.  Sam busied himself with salting all the windows and doors while Dean settled their dad in the bedroom and checked him out for injuries.

Dean assured Sam that John just needed rest.  Dean asked how Sam was doing, focusing his eyes down at his hands where he was cleaning them with a rag.

Sam said he would survive.  He turned towards Dean and asked if he thought they had been followed. 

Dean was having a hard time looking at Sam.  His face was all busted up and it made Dean want to go to him and caress the area that was injured. Run his hands up in Sam’s hair to make sure there were no fractures or other unseen injuries to his beloved.

But he couldn’t.  So he just kept working at his hands, even though they were undoubtedly clean by now.

His mind kept replaying the scene of the demon beating on Sam, over and over.  He wished he could have reanimated the vicious thing and killed it again, and again, a thousand times wouldn’t be enough for how much Dean wanted to make that thing suffer for what he had done.

Sam tried to gather his thoughts.  His heart was a whirl with the way Dean had saved him, had once more come to his rescue as he had done so gallantly so many times over the months they had been working and traveling together this past year.

He needed to say something, but nothing would encompass how much he loved Dean, needed him, longed to stay with him, when he knew he shouldn’t.  He was toxic and needed to get as far away from Dean as was possible, yet things kept standing in the way.  Keeping him here, causing his need for Dean to grow more and more.

Sam’s voice was little more than a ragged whisper when he said, “Hey, uh, Dean, you, um…”

He wasn’t sure where to begin because he couldn’t say any of the things that were struggling to break free, to tumble off his tongue, his heart longed for it.  For the freedom to just be honest.

He laughed a harsh laugh, derisively at himself.  He looked over at his brother who was now watching him from across the room, with that patient stare he got when he was just waiting for Sam to say whatever he needed to, anytime he was having trouble speaking something heavy.  In times like these, it was like Dean would wait for Sam forever.

Sam started again, catching Dean’s eye, “You saved my life back there.”

The look on Sam’s face, it was too raw, too emotional, and it hurt Dean, pushed at his chest like too much air was being forced into his lungs, burning him from the inside out.  For Sam to feel gratitude towards him, towards the monster that sat dark and waiting within Dean’s very core, just biding its time to come out and take advantage of his little brother, it made Dean’s soul wrack with guilt. 

He had to break the tension, the only way he knew how, with an attempt at levity.  “So I guess you’re glad I brought the gun, huh?” He gave a little smirk which rounded his cheek, but didn’t quite fill his eyes.

Sam wouldn’t allow him to break the spell he was trying to weave between them.  His gravelly whisper cut through Dean’s heart like a knife when he said, “Man, I’m trying to thank you here.”

Dean couldn’t betray the way Sam had opened his heart with any more attempts to lessen the gravity of what he had said.  So he just bore the pain of his own guilt and accepted the thanks with just a quiet, “You’re welcome,” in return.

He was unable to maintain eye contact any further, however.  He felt too raw.  Too vulnerable, too seen somehow.

Sam gave up, he knew that sharing moments like this were hard, nearly impossible for Dean and he should just consider this a win.  But his heart was heavy, feeling like he hadn’t conveyed nearly what he needed to say to his brother, how much he felt he owed to him, needed him to understand, before Sam ultimately had to leave.

He went to stand on the other side of the room with his back to Dean.

Dean wanted to be silent, especially after the way his body felt like he had just had an adrenaline dump drain off and leave him spent from what Sam had just shared.  Something had been haunting him, had been chewing at him the entire drive here, but he just wanted to keep it to himself. Didn’t want to speak because riding beside what was on his mind, was how much he loved Sam, how much he needed him and didn’t know what to do about it.  

Seeing him lying under the demon, being beaten that way, it made Dean feel like he should tell Sam how he really felt.  Tell him before something bad happened to one of them, before it was too late.  Like maybe Sam deserved to know the depths of Dean’s love for him.  That maybe if he kept the sexual desire to himself, maybe it wouldn’t be horrible to tell Sam the intensity of how much he meant to him. 

But Dean knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he couldn’t do that.  That it would just ruin them, because Dean didn’t deserve anything good and pure like Sam in his life.  That he wasn’t really sure how he ended up so fortunate as to have him for the time he has. But he knew he was lucky, that Sam was the best thing that had ever happened to him, and he couldn’t say anything about his feelings if there was even the slightest chance it would cost him Sam. 

So he tried to push down the idea of sharing his love, shoved it into the box where he kept all the sexual darkness about his brother.  But the lid wouldn’t close.  Like he had to get something he was feeling out. Like there was too much trapped inside himself.   Like if he didn’t open up about the one of his fears, the other one might just push all the rest aside and come out unbidden.  He couldn’t have that, he couldn’t allow his emotions for his brother to get the better of him.  So he chose the lesser of the two evils, chose to share the new growing darkness, not the deeper incestuous one. 

Sam fell into mute contemplation, but to his surprise, Dean began to speak.  He told Sam that the guy he shot back there, it had been a person inside.  Sam tried to comfort him, telling him he didn’t have a choice.

But Dean told him that wasn’t what was bothering him.  Sam turned full on so he could watch Dean, even though his brother wasn’t willing to look back at him, choosing instead to stare off at the floor, not really seeing anything in the room, looking instead at the darkness within.

A chill ran up Sam’s spine at the depth of what followed.

Dean’s voice was flat, but somehow still full of emotion, Sam could hear it behind every syllable.  Dean swallowed hard before he said, “Killing that guy, killing Meg, I didn’t hesitate.  I didn’t even flinch.”

Sam watched as Dean’s lips turned up into an almost smile as he continued, “For you or Dad, the things I’m willing to do, or kill, it’s just, ah,”

He hesitated, his lips trying to form words for a few seconds before finally coming together to say, “It scares me sometimes.”

Dean felt scared at that very moment. Scared of what he was confessing. Of the darkness he felt growing inside himself.  He had carried the dark desires for Sam for so long, he knew they were a part of him that he could never rid his soul of, but this, this new cold vicious killer that was spreading ebony black wings inside him, it was new and violent and he didn’t truly know what he was capable of anymore.

Sam watched his brother’s face, the beautiful way the emotions played across it.  He knew anyone watching his brother from afar, unable to hear his voice, would think he was speaking of nothing of consequence, since his face had barely moved while he talked.  But to Sam, it had given him an immense look into the fear brewing in his brother’s soul.  Dean never shared things like this, not out loud in this way.  He used to when they were teenagers every once in a while, but he hadn’t in a long time.  And never like this, not willingly, without being prompted and prodded by Sam to do so.

Sam wanted to cross the room and take his brother in his arms, tell him he was okay and not to worry, and that he was a good man, and fighting for his family wasn’t anything to be ashamed of.  Sam had to pin himself in place in order to not move but before he could form any of the compassionate words that wanted to come pouring out to his brother, his father stepped out of the shadows and said, “It shouldn’t.”

He squared off facing Dean and said, “You did good.”

Dean swallowed hard, not really remembering the last time his father had said something like that.  It caught him off guard.  He had to ask, “You’re not mad?”

John just looked at him, his face more open and vulnerable than either of the boys ever remembered seeing as he asked, “For what?”

Dean couldn’t believe he was having to spell this out.  “Using a bullet.”

John’s voice was a broken whisper, “ Mad? I’m proud of you.”

He nodded towards his youngest as he continued, “You know, Sam and I, we can get pretty obsessed.”

Sam dropped his head, tears wanted to fall.  Dean deserved this recognition.  Deserved to know he was appreciated and did what was right.  Sam couldn’t remember John ever saying he was proud of Dean.  It hurt his heart to understand what that must have meant to his brother in this moment. 

John turned his eyes towards his oldest, “But you, you watch out for this family.  You always have.”

Sam couldn’t believe it.  These words were so true, but to hear them coming from John.  To know he could finally see what Sam had always known about Dean.

Dean’s brow furrowed.  He didn’t know what to do with this softer side to John.  Yelling, hitting things, sure he knew how to deal with that, but being open and expressing himself emotionally, being tortured by the demons must have really done a number on his old man. 

Dean looked to Sam for any indication this felt wrong to him, but Sam’s face looked as shocked as Dean felt.  Dean said a soft, “Thanks.” But didn’t really know what to do with any of the confusion he was feeling.

Before he had time to process any of it, the lights began to flicker and there was a sudden sound of wind whipping around the cabin. 

John looked out the window, then began barking orders saying the demon had found them and that Sam needed to put salt around all the doors and windows.  Sam assured him he had already done so but John insisted he go check to make sure it was all secure.

Once Sam was gone John asked Dean if he had the Colt.  Dean told him he did and John instructed him to give him the gun.  Dean told him that Sam tried to use it on the demon already but it just disappeared.

John told Dean he wouldn’t miss.  Insisting Dean give it to him, calling him ‘Son’.

A cold heavy stone formed in the pit of Dean’s stomach.  He began to back away from his father.  He told him that his father would be furious that he used a bullet and would have torn him a new one, not telling him how proud he was.  Dean raised the Colt and aimed it at the man standing next to the window looking back at Dean with angry confusion on his face.

Dean cocked the gun and said, “You’re not my dad.”

Right about that time Sam came into the room and saw the confusing tableau laid out before him.  He asked what was going on and both men had a different story.   Dean told Sam it wasn’t their father.  That he was sure John was possessed and had been since they had rescued him.  John insisted that Dean had lost his mind.

Sam asked Dean how he knew and Dean didn’t have a good answer, he just assured Sam that John was different.

John told Sam if he wanted to kill the demon, he had to trust him.

Sam looked from Dean to John and back to Dean.  He saw Dean’s determined face, but also watched as his lips quivered with heavy emotions.  It convinced him, he just somehow knew that Dean would never do this unless he was sure. Dean would never accuse John of something like this unless every instinct in his hunter’s body knew he was right.

Sam had been trusting Dean his entire life.  All things considered this was an easy decision.

He told John, “No.” and went to stand behind Dean.

John told the boys with tears in his eyes and heavy emotion in his voice, “If you are both so sure, then go ahead and kill me.”  He hung his head as if waiting for his execution.

Dean held the gun out, cocked and ready, but his resolve wasn’t as strong. Tears came to his eyes at the thought that he wouldn’t just be killing the demon inside his father with the Colt, he would also be killing John.  He knew his father would be pissed but he didn’t think he could do it.

In a deeper more controlled voice John said, “I thought so.”

His head raised and yellow eyes glared out of John’s face at both younger Winchesters.

Sam was thrown across the room and pinned to the wall.  Dean flew backwards and hit the wall with such force that it knocked the Colt from his hands.  Neither young man could move of their own volition.

From where Sam was frozen to the wall huffing as he struggled, he told the demon they had been searching for it for a long time.  Sam asked it why the holy water hadn’t worked and the thing snarled at him asking if he really thought something like that would work on something like him.

Sam growled out that he was going to kill it.  Dean watched in silent horror as the thing wearing his dad’s skin taunted Sam.  It put the Colt down on the table across from Sam and told him to make the gun float to him, calling him ‘psychic boy.’

The provocation affected Sam more than he wanted to show.  He had been able to push a huge chest out of the way because of his vision of Dean dying.  Yet here he was stuck against a wall and he saw the danger right in front of him to Dean.  Assumed this thing could kill Dean with just a thought, and yet Sam had never felt more impotent in his life.

The thing went to stand in front of Dean, who was smoldering around the hatred he felt for the yellow eyed demon.  It mocked Dean, telling him that his father was in there with him, that he was going to force John to rip Dean apart and make John taste the iron in Dean’s blood.

Sam watched powerless as the thing moved closer to Dean.  Glaring in his face he told Dean that he considered this justice.  Whispered to him that Meg had been his daughter and the demon Dean had shot in the alley, to save Sam, had been his son.   He said that they had destroyed his family, and then ridiculed the fact that he had already killed Dean’s family.

Sam watched Dean. His brother didn’t flinch, never showed one ounce of fear.  Sam saw Dean’s face fill with anger as his lip snarled with fury and hatred, calling the demon a son of a bitch right to his face.

Sam noticed that the demon seemed to be enjoying torturing Dean for some reason.  He had even teased him at first, saying that he could have killed him a hundred times today, but that this, ridiculing them, was so worth the wait.  He was enjoying the derision of both brothers, but Sam could tell the demon was taking a special liking to hurting Dean.

Sam was afraid the demon would twist the emotional knife harder, dig deeper at Dean somehow so before he could, Sam pulled the attention back to himself.  Calling out saying, “I wanna know why? Why did you do it?”

The demon turned his head towards Sam and asked, “You mean why did I kill mommy and pretty little Jess?”

Sam said, “Yeah.”

Instead of answering right away, the demon turned again towards Dean, and continued to torment him, saying “You know, he never told you this, but Sam was gonna ask her to marry him, been shopping for rings and everything.”

Dean would have preferred if the yellow eyed bastard had just shoved his hand into his chest and plucked out his heart.  It would have hurt less than that revelation did.

The demon turned away from Dean and sauntered over to the other wall where Sam was suspended.  It got right up in Sam’s space and explained that the only reason that he killed both women, was because they got in the way of the plans he had for Sam, and for all the children like him.

He stepped back so that he could view his victims hanging on perpendicular walls away from one another.  He smiled darkly.  “So many secrets in this family.”

Both brothers’ hearts froze in terror.  “So many delicious ways I could open Pandora’s box for the two of you.”  He laughed deeply.

“And John, he has a whopper of a tale that you boys don’t know about.”

“Heya Sammy, do you want me to tell Dean your secret or do you want to hear his first?”

Sam didn’t have a clue what either Dean’s or John’s secrets might be but he knew he didn’t want his shared.  It would blow the family up.  He began to flail around and try to fight against the invisible hold the demon had on him.

Dean was panicking.  He hated the way the thing was focused on Sam, how it was taunting him, and the way he said ‘Sammy’ made his skin crawl.  But he had to let all that go.  He had to somehow stop this thing right now.  He couldn’t allow his secret to come out, not this way, not any way, ever.  He couldn’t allow it to tell Sam the dark shame Dean had carried around so long in his soul.

So he tried to provoke the demon back towards him with, “Listen, you mind just getting this over with, huh? ‘Cause I really can’t stand the monologuing.”

It worked because yellow eyed John came strolling back in his direction saying, “Funny, but that’s all part of your M.O. isn’t it? Mask all that nasty pain, hide away all the evil things you want, mask the truth.”

He got right up in Dean’s face, close enough he could have bent down and kissed him easily, but instead he spit a cold hard barb right to the core of him, “You fight and you fight for this family, but the truth is, they don’t need you. Not like you need them.”

Sam’s face jerked towards Dean’s.  He worried that the demon’s jab would wear his brother down.  Somehow make Dean doubt how important he was, how essential to Sam’s very survival he absolutely had always been.

The demon refused to stop the emotional onslaught of the oldest Winchester, seeming to revel in twisting his guts up just right.  “Sam, he’s clearly John’s favorite. Even when they fight, it’s more concern than he’s ever shown you.”

Dean gladly accepted what the demon stated, he could listen to this all night as long as it meant he didn’t share Dean’s secret.  Dean stared right in the demons eyes and took all the pain the monster was causing him, took all the hurt and anguish it had stirred up inside of himself and swallowed it down. It was easy, it was a meal he had supped on his entire life so it settled right in the hole in his heart as it always had.  He took it all and turned it into a bitter rebuttal, “I bet you’re real proud of your kids too, huh?  Oh, wait, I forgot, I wasted ‘em.”

He smiled up into the demon’s yellow eyes occupying his father’s face.

The demon said nothing in reply, just closed his eyes, and when they opened again, blood began pouring out of Dean’s chest, he cried out in pain.

Dean took it as long as he could and then he pleaded, “Dad, Dad, don’t you let it kill me.”

Sam’s heart was in a vice, watching what the demon was doing to Dean.  He panicked and called Dean’s name helplessly struggling to get free.

Blood began pouring out of Dean’s mouth and Sam looked longingly at the gun laid out on the table before him.  He tried focusing his power but couldn’t seem to do anything. 

Dean looked up into the face of the man that had raised him, taught him everything he knew, made him the man he was, and begged, “Dad, please?”

The next moment, Dean’s head fell limply, his chin against his chest, as he slipped into unconscious.

John fought the demon and broke its concentration enough for his own dark eyes to return to his face. Sam fell from the wall and landed on his feet, running immediately for the Colt.

The demon took control of John once more, and turned towards Sam saying, “You kill me, you kill Daddy.”

Sam’s only response was, “I know,” before shooting the monstrosity in the leg.  It broke the spell holding Dean against the wall and he fell hard against the floor.

Sam launched himself at his brother, desperately needing to take care of him and get him to safety, but Dean’s only concern was for their father.  He insisted Sam go check on John.

Sam did so reluctantly, calling out, “Dad?”

John came to and told Sam to kill him.  He explained that the thing was still alive inside him and Sam needed to shoot him right in the heart to end it.

Dean called out behind Sam, “Sam, don’t you do it.  Don’t you do it.”

His voice was weak from blood loss but it pounded against Sam’s heart like a sledgehammer.

John insisted Sam hurry, that he couldn’t hold on to it much longer, he begged for Sam to shoot him.

Sam had the gun cocked and raised, aimed right for John’s heart, but all the pleading coming from John about ending all their torments here and now, was drowned out by Dean’s wish echoing in Sam’s ears.

He heard a barely audible whisper from behind him, his brother, his beloved, begging, “Sam, no.”

Sam began lowering the gun and the demon erupted out of John’s mouth in a storming swirling dark cloud, pouring down into the floor and disappearing.

A look of anguish mixed with disgust was plain on John’s face towards Sam after it happened.

Sam felt so lost and alone as he went to gather up Dean off the floor and hurriedly carried him to the Impala.  He placed him as gently as he could in the back seat.  Dean barely made a sound during the entire process except to say a soft, “Sam.”

John sat next to Sam in the front seat with Dean slumped against the window, behind the driver’s side in the back seat.  John huffed out a pained breath and Sam told him to hold on, that the hospital was only ten minutes away.

John started in on Sam, telling him he should have killed him.  Said that he thought they saw eye to eye on this.  He berated Sam, saying “Killing this demon comes first. Before me, before everything.”

Sam looked up into the rear view mirror.  He saw Dean, weak, blood covered, looking so pale and helpless.  His heart ached for his brother. He was scared to death they wouldn’t make it to the hospital on time.  He couldn’t lose him, not now, not ever.

He allowed his gaze to drop away from the only thing he cared about and looked back towards the road, saying simply, “No sir.  Not before everything.”

He began to explain to John how they still had the Colt.  They still had the one bullet left and that since they had found the demon once they just had to start over.

Before John had a chance to answer, a semi truck came barreling out of nowhere and hit the Impala.  It was knocked off the road and left the three Winchesters bloody and unconscious, cradled protectively by the crumpled body of the only home they had ever known.

**Author's Note:**

> I was not kidding when I said my brain is mush. It took me almost three full days of watching and rewatching, writing and rewriting this episode to get through it. I think the reason it was so hard for me was because this episode is so fucking good just on its own, there is soooooo much emotion flying across the screen in nearly every scene that it is sheer perfection. So it was very hard finding places to enunciate and elucidate the Wincest between all the superb acting and writing in the entire thing. However I endured and pushed and shoved and stuffed as much emotional background and angst into this sucker as I could manage.
> 
> I cannot thank you all enough. I know I say that all the time, but damn it, I mean it. This series of stories wouldn't be here, and wouldn't be continuing if it weren't for all of you. This would have been a happy little one off angst ridden piece about episode 1 and I don't know what I would be doing with myself now if it weren't for all of your support. 
> 
> You all have changed my life and enriched it for the better and I love you all!!!!
> 
> I truly hope you have enjoyed this season as much as I have. I am about to go sleep it off and will pick up Season 2 tomorrow.


End file.
